Bend it Like Bridget
by theravenclawquill
Summary: An elaboration of Bridget's third summer. BridgetEric.
1. Chapter 1

(A/N) This fic is actually based on Ann Brashares' original plot line in the third book. However, me being the big Bridget/Eric fan that I am, I thought that their story should have been the entire book. Yeah, who really wanted to read about Lena, Carmen, and Tibby? (; Haha, I'm just kidding; I love them too. But I thought I would go a little more in-depth into Bridget's side of the story. Throughout my fic, I plan to cover the unanswered mysteries (How exactly did Bridget get sick? What exactly did Eric do in New York?). I also will include Eric's point-of-view of each event. I apologize in advance if anyone is miffed by me using Ann Brashares' original plot line; I just really wanted to elaborate on hers. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy reading!

Disclaimer: Characters, names, and some quotes belong to Ann Brashares.

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"Pennsylvania," Bridget exhaled to herself, beaming. She took another look around the crowded sidewalk for the camp bus and sighed. Bridget hadn't particularly enjoyed the tearful goodbye she had shared with Lena, Carmen, and Tibby a few hours earlier, but all that evaporated the minute she'd stepped off the plane.

Granted, though, she still missed them. After all, it was the sisterhood's last summer before they all went off to different colleges…their last real summer together as high school students…

Bridget made a move to wipe a stray tear off her face, but the pesky droplet vanished just as a faded yellow bus drove around the corner. It pulled up to Bridget's curb and the door creaked open. A chubby, bespectacled driver stared down at Bridget and smiled. Bridget grinned back at her and stepped in.

---

The air at the Prynne Valley Soccer Academy smelled of fresh cut grass and soccer. Just… that soccer smell. Bridget couldn't explain exactly what it smelled of, but she knew that it filled her heart with that familiar longing. As she made the long trek to her cabin, she took the time to admire the freshly painted boundary lines and newly strung goals. _I am going to have a lot of fun coaching this summer_, Bridget thought, picking up her pace excitedly.

She reached for the door of her cabin, number 7, at the same time it swung open from the inside.

"Bridget!"

"Diana!"

The two girls screamed for what seemed like an hour and embraced. "I haven't seen you since Baja!" Diana cried, letting Bridget into the small cabin. "You look absolutely stunning, as usual! I think you grew taller, too."

Bridget tossed her huge duffel bag (the extent of her belongings) onto a bunk and turned to grin at her brown-haired friend. "Nope, I'm still 5'9. Maybe you shrunk." She winked for good measure.

Diana threw a pillow at her and grinned. "Haha, very funny."

Bridget skillfully dodged the attack and laughed, "I'm _just_ kidding! But seriously, you look fabulous." She plopped onto her bed, watching dust fly up from the mattress.

The two girls continued to chat endlessly about school, boys and soccer, simply enjoying each other's company.

"So, anyone else we know coaching here?" Bridget asked.

Diana averted her gaze and stammered, "Um, no, I don't think so."

Bridget cast a suspicious look in Diana's direction. "You were always a terrible liar, Diana. Come on, who's here?" An innocent thought flitted into Bridget's head, but she waved it away like an annoying fly. Bridget rolled over onto her back and stared into Diana's reddening face, long blond locks fanning out onto the wooden floor. "Who is it?" she sang. "Jessica? Samantha? Maybe Andrea?"

Throughout Bridget's incessant singing, Diana's eyes continued to stay stubbornly fixated on the floor. Finally, Bridget gave up and, instead, grabbed Diana's wrist to read the time. "We have a staff meeting in eight minutes." Bridget rolled over, sat up and stuffed her feet into a pair of sneakers. "I'm going to find out who you're talking about."

---

Bridget entered the dining hall with her nerves on end. _Do I really want to think it?_ She didn't want to think it, in fear of jinxing it. But she also didn't want not to think it, in fear of disregarding it too soon. She was confused. She didn't know what she wanted. Bridget sighed and fidgeted with her silky, blond hair for the millionth time, eliciting approving glances from some of the male coaches sitting around her. _Marly's hair, _Bridget thought, as she smiled faintly back at the guys. _I've always had my mom's hair. I hope that's all I've inherited._

Bridget's legendary hair warranted all-capitals: The Hair. The Hair that caused guys everywhere to melt into putty into Bridget's long, slender arms. The Hair that had instigated a thousand appreciative looks and whistles. The Hair that had consumed Eric whole, two summers ago. _Am I sorry? _Bridget thought. _Is he?_

Suddenly, as though someone had turned on a fan behind her, Bridget felt an imposing change in the atmosphere. Her nerves were tingling again, as they always did when she knew something huge was about to happen. _Do I want to think it? Could it really be -? _

"Bridget?"

Bridget turned slowly in her seat, heart thudding (was it in anticipation or dread?).

Her eyes went in and out of focus as she struggled to identify the face of the voice. Is it him? It definitely was him.

Eric Richman stood before her, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was wearing a tattered Manchester United jersey and long soccer shorts. _He looks like he just went running,_ Bridget thought enviously. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to jump from her seat and sprint out into the Pennsylvania wilderness, never once looking back.

Eric's voice brought her back to reality. "How are you?" His dark, inquisitive eyes smiled at her. His kindness was genuine, Bridget could tell. She raked her eyes over him, the very person that she had spent two years dreaming about. The very person that changed her life forever. For the good or the bad, though, she had yet to decide.

Bridget abandoned all sense of manners and stammered, "I-I didn't know you would be here, Eric."

He grinned that lopsided grinned and waved a sheet of paper in her face. "They mailed us the staff list about three weeks ago."

Bridget bit her lip. "Oh I didn't read it."

"Typical Bridget." He smiled.

Bridget's eyes didn't know where to land. They fixed themselves on the floor, then on him, then on the space behind him. She felt incredibly awkward. After a painful silence, she finally opened her mouth to ask him about Columbia. Thankfully, at that exact moment, the head of the camp, Joe, decided to call all the coaches to order. Bridget cast another glance at Eric and scrambled to sit down, body just a bit shaky.

---

Eric had expected Bridget to be there, just as he expected her not to have read the staff list. _Am I expecting anything else? _he thought to himself, then shook his head at once, ashamed of himself.

He had spent many days imagining their first encounter at Prynne. He imagined Bridget throwing a tantrum or throwing herself into his arms. (Eric had shamelessly hoped for the latter.) Either way, the actual encounter surprised him. Bridget seemed tamed, no longer "single-minded to the point of recklessness." She seemed more mature, more pensive, and more aware of the consequences of her actions. _Is she sorry? _he wondered. _Am I?_

But one thing about Bridget had not changed – her breathtaking beauty. Eric remembered her blond hair to perfect detail: the way it moved from side to side when she played soccer, the way it fell down her shoulders when she wrapped her arms around her knees, the way it fanned against the sands of Baja. As he sat behind her at the coaches' table, he studied her long, tan limbs. _She seems taller._

Joe kept talking, but Eric didn't hear a word.

---

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it. If you have any questions/comments, please feel free to leave a review - they are always appreciated. (: thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters, names, and some quotes belong to Ann Brashares.

(A/N) Thanks to Bubblereader1010, Jenny May, cryingcloud15, and gilmoregirliee for the reviews! (: they certainly are appreciated. (and to answer you, yes! Eric is with Kaya. but I'll get into that later.) Thanks, guys! (:

On to the chapter!

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"Hey."

Bridget turned around, sighing inwardly. Frankly, she was exhausted at the thought of having to talk to Eric again. He definitely was as cute as she remembered, but coming up with conversation pieces was much more difficult than Bridget had expected.

"Hi." She started out with that.

Eric ran a hand through his untidy blond hair. "Do you want to go for a run?"

Bridget smiled. There was definitely no conversation pieces involved there. "I just ate," she said, before she could stop herself. Bridget noticed that her mouth didn't always follow her mind.

"Oh." He looked surprised. "Okay. See you tomorrow, then."

Bridget nodded and watched his retreating back. She turned away immediately, so that she wouldn't see which cabin he was headed to. Even though she felt different this summer - less spontaneous and less daring - Bridget still didn't completely trust herself.

Cabin 7 came into view and Bridget jogged a little toward the wooden steps. A small adrenaline rush filled her heart as she ran. Bridget stopped at once, feeling surprised at herself. In a last minute decision, she turned away from her cabin and took another path that wound down toward the soccer fields.

The goals stood like lonely sentinels in the fading sunlight, against the darkening backdrop of the sky. Bridget jogged slightly faster and faster, her sneakers pounding the grass and gravel.

The wind flew past, causing Bridget's hair to whip around her face. Her heart began to beat to the rhythm of her thudding steps, and her mind finally, at last, began to clear. Bridget retreated into her blank state, feeling her heart swell with the comfort of running. Her legs moved with a mind of their own, taking her up hills, around tracks and through unfamiliar woods. Even when she reached a country road, she kept running, running along a tree-lined path. Darkness threatened to fall, but Bridget continued running, pumping her legs to their fullest extent. Where she was running to and how long she was going to run before turning back, she had no idea. All she knew now was each next step she would take.

---

Eric walked slowly back to his cabin, number 12, hands in pockets. _She is definitely different,_ he mused. The old Bridget would never have turned him down. The old Bridget would have started running even before he finished talking, sending him backward 'come hither' glances with those lustful green eyes. Eric didn't know if he felt offended or somewhat proud of her. _What am I feeling, exactly? _He realized he had no idea.

Suddenly, Eric heard the unmistakable crunching of gravel beneath running shoes somewhere in the distance. He turned toward the noise and noticed a figure passing rapidly through the trees, up to the road that led through the camp. The figure, Eric was amused to see, was wearing navy Nike shorts and a tank top, and had wispy strands of hair whipping back and forth behind her. Her long legs made her look like a gazelle in tennis shoes.

_So Vreeland went running without me. _Eric shook his head and chuckled.

---

Bridget walked barefoot down to the soccer field to meet her players, swinging her cleats by the laces. She had just spent way too long in her cramped cabin, contemplating what to wear. _Why? _she wondered. _I'm just coaching soccer. Or is it because of something else? Someone? _Bridget pushed the thought from her mind. She had made the decision, last night, simply to be Eric's friend this summer.

Nothing more.

As she made her way onto the field, blades of grass stabbing her feet, Bridget became vaguely aware of the appreciative whispers and gazes that followed her. She heard the words "youngest coach here", "only high school All-American", and even "gorgeous" float around her in the humid air. She felt like a celebrity; she knew that, here, out of anywhere on Earth, she would be appreciated. Bridget bit her lip to keep from grinning, and she walked over to join the coaches with a slight spring in her step.

Bridget plopped onto the grass and pulled on her knee-high soccer socks and her cleats. Every so often, she would switch feet, causing her hair to swing around and settle lightly on the opposite shoulder. When she finished, she looked up to find just about every guy staring discreetly in her direction.

"Okay!" Joe barked, glancing down at the clipboard he was holding. "Players! Line up!" His voice was so powerful, he didn't even need a bullhorn. It seemed to have the same domineering effect on the group of boys, who all scurried to form a somewhat straight line.

Joe began assigning boys to each of the coaches, rattling off unfamiliar names in a monotone. Bridget stifled a yawn and hopped from foot to foot to keep alert.

When the group of players in front of her started to grow, Bridget began to examine each of them for potential. Some were gangly and tall and some were short and stocky, but all seemed pleased with themselves for having the luck to be chosen for Bridget's team. Bridget smiled, overall pleased at her choices. There was a thin blond boy that seemed light on his feet, a tall Asian boy with shifty, wise eyes, and a lanky, brunette boy with extremely large feet and knobby legs.

Eric walked up to her, tossing a soccer ball from hand to hand. He eyed her team with interest.

"You're pretty popular with the kids," he teased. "I've never felt as inadequate on the field as I do now. My kids are asking me to trade with you."

Bridget fought the urge to retort with a flirtatious remark. Instead, she smiled lightly, "Don't worry about it. They'll like you soon enough."

"How was your run yesterday?"

Bridget didn't even try to hide her surprise. "Oh," she blushed. "I decided running by myself would probably be better for my stamina - "

Eric waved his hands in front of his face and laughed, "It's okay, I'm not mad. Did you end up having a good time out there in the woods?"

"Yeah," Bridget said, remembering all the thinking she had managed to get in during her run. "I think it did a lot of good for me. I felt a lot better. I think I'm going to be okay with this."

Eric thought she was talking about the stress of coaching and didn't catch Bridget's subtle reference. "That's good," he said absentmindedly. "That's good."

---

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it. Comments/reviews are always appreciated! (: Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you's: gilmoregirlieee, noiram, Jenny May, spectacularspectacular, PriscillaN, Bubblereader1010, Laura369, 2col4skool2, katryna1, daniwani2369. Thanks so much for the reviews, you guys! They seriously go appreciated. Thanks! (: On to the chapter!

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A few nights later found Bridget sitting on the dock on the camp's deep lake, contemplating the several unfortunate events that had plagued her week.

Bridget dipped her bare feet in the cold water and sighed, thinking back to her initial reactions. When Eric had innocently let slip about his new girlfriend, Kaya, yesterday, Bridget had surprised herself by managing to reply with a nonchalant, "Wow. Good for you." But unbeknownst to Eric, she had experienced a completely different reaction on the inside. Inside, Bridget had struggled against a burning lump that had built itself up in her throat. She couldn't swallow, in fear of gulping; she couldn't blink, in fear of squeezing out her tears. But on the outside, in front of Eric, she had maintained a happy façade. It wasn't hard. After all, Bridget had had to maintain a happy façade for most of her life. She was used to it.

Then came the coincidence to end all coincidences. Bridget grimaced as she remembered Joe's words at the staff meeting that morning.

She remembered Joe's eyes scanning his usual clipboard, with the list of coaches and campers as he read off names in his characteristic monotone. She remembered flipping through the pamphlet and memorizing the daily schedule; four hours of team practice before lunch, one hour of conditioning after, and then the rest of the day left for activities. But Bridget hadn't seen the surprise geared up toward her.

"Vreeland, Bridget, you will be partnered with… Richman, Eric, for rafting and kayaking."

Bridget remembered all too clearly that blow that had stunned her and almost knocked her out. Her vision had blurred; pinpricks of light had sprung up behind her eyelids. Joe's words packed a mean punch. It had been so outrageous and ironic that Bridget had wanted to laugh. If it wasn't so morbidly depressing, she might've.

A sudden breeze brought Bridget back into reality. She pulled her feet from where they dangled in the water up onto the dock. Shivering, she drew her legs to her body and rested her chin on her knees.

Obviously, Diana's plan wasn't going to succeed. A couple of nights ago, Diana had promised Bridget this was going to work out perfectly.

"It's a big camp!" Diana had pressed. "If you just throw yourself into your own team, me, and making new friends, you'll forget about him in no time. You guys probably won't even run into each other, I promise. It'll be okay, Bee."

And Bridget had believed her. _Fat load of good that did,_ Bridget thought, just a little bitterly. "Funny how life works," she said quietly, rocking back and forth and hugging her knees. "How coincidental. How unlucky."

But as Bridget stared at the ripples in the windswept water, she noticed pesky thoughts forming in the back of her head. _Am I lying to myself? Do I really hate Joe's choice that much? Is this really unfortunate? _

_Or do I just want myself to think it is?_

---

"Eric!" Joe clapped a meaty hand on Eric's back, causing him almost to choke on the piece of chicken he was eating.

"Joe," Eric sputtered, trying to wash down the chicken with a large gulp of water. "What's up?"

Joe pushed his sunglasses onto his head. "Let's talk, bud." He sat himself down next to Eric, who, luckily, was sitting alone.

Eric looked wary. "About?"

"Bridget Vreeland."

Eric's face relaxed. "Oh," he exhaled. "Yeah, I've been meaning to thank you for giving me dibs on choosing my partner."

Joe looked around nervously and shushed Eric. "Don't go around telling the other coaches that I let you pick your partner though," he whispered. "It's only because I owed you that favor. But there's something else."

"What?" asked Eric.

"She doesn't seem to harbor the same excitement for you, buddy."

Eric's face fell. "What do you mean?"

Joe sighed. "She came up to me later, asking me to trade partners. I had to make up all sorts of reasons why she couldn't switch. I just want to know what exactly happened between you two, you know, to make sure I'm not causing any problems by letting you choose her. If that's okay with you."

Thoughts raced through Eric's head. "This new Bridget is completely unfathomable," he mused more to himself than to Joe. "Trading a male partner? Two years ago, she would have traded her liver to spend three weeks with a guy."

Bracing himself, Eric retold his history with Bridget to Joe, who proved an attentive listener.

"So, I just wanted to use this opportunity to apologize to her and fix things between us," Eric finished. "She wouldn't seem to talk to me alone elsewhere. This was my last chance to fix this."

"That's good of you," replied Joe.

"I'm not a bad guy," Eric said, trying to convince himself. "It wasn't illegal, I wasn't 18 yet. And I couldn't…I just couldn't help myself." He felt pathetic; he couldn't even control himself against the seductive prowess of a fifteen-year-old.

"Ah, I know," Joe said nicely, clamping another knee-buckling pat on Eric's shoulder. "I don't blame you, bud. She is quite the sight."

Eric grimaced. "Okay, okay, thanks, Joe."

Joe got to his feet awkwardly. "Okay, catch you on the field."

Eric nodded and turned back to his lunch, sweating.

---

Eric dragged the kayak across the sand, feeling the sun beat down on his head. He bit his lip to keep from complaining. Since he had been late, Bridget had set up all the other equipment for him. Eric didn't want to seem ungrateful, but he was getting really impatient.

"Vreeland!" he called out through gritted teeth. "Can you stop sunbathing and come help me?"

Bridget threw back her head to send Eric a disdainful look. Her blanket of blond hair whipped around as she narrowed her eyes playfully.

"Dude," she grinned, "you were late. I did as much as I could. I can't keep covering for you."

She stood up and walked lazily to the dock, whistling. Eric glanced up and felt his grip on the kayak slacken. Bridget was wearing that odd pair of jeans with the writing on it (the same pants, Eric realized, from Baja) and a green bikini for kayaking. Eric watched, bemused.

Bridget peeled off her jeans and tossed them onto the wooden planks, Eric following her with his eyes. She stretched her arms over her head and, in one perfect movement, leapt off the dock and into the crystal water. The previously tranquil lake splashed and churned for several moments before returning to its undisturbed state. When Bridget didn't resurface after a while, Eric began to worry slightly.

"Bee?" he called, surprised at his own voice. "You okay?"

There was no response.

After several dizzying seconds, Bridget finally resurfaced from the depths of the lake. Eric's heart resumed beating. "Man, what are you, a whale?" he laughed, visibly relieved.

With a jump, Bridget pulled herself back onto the dock to dry off. Her tanned skin glistened with millions of water drops and her hair hung heavily over her wet body. Eric, whose eyes were fixated on a spot below Bridget's eyes, forced himself to pry his gaze elsewhere.

"Don't tell Kaya that," Bridget laughed. "Girls don't like being called whales."

_Was there resentment there?_ Eric thought. _Or is it just wishful thinking on my part? _He forced his heart to slow down before he spoke again. "Normal people don't stay under water that long."

She shook her hair out, pelting Eric with water. "I have good lung capacity." She grinned.

Eric nodded.

"Hey!" A characteristic old-Bridget fire passed behind her eyes. "You want to take one out before the kids show up?" She jogged over to the kayak Eric was dragging and effortlessly ran it to the edge of the lake.

Eric laughed, impressed. "And talk?" he asked, jogging to join her at the edge of the water.

"Sure." Bridget smiled. "We'll talk."

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Please feel free, anyone, to drop me a comment or question! They are very much appreciated. Thanks again!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters and some quotes belong to Ann Brashares.

Thank yous: daniwani2369, cryingcloud15, noiram, Jenny Mae, spectacularspectacular, Bubblereader1010, Laura369, and Princess Kazula! Thanks so much for the reviews, you guys! They're very much appreciated! (they also act as motivation!)

On to the chapter!

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"Hey, guys." Eric placed his tray, laden with burgers and fruit, on the table and sat down opposite Bridget and Diana.

"Hey," Diana said, smiling and leaning forward in her seat. "So, you guys ready to continue the discussion about how my team is going to kick your guys' asses in every game?"

"Oh please!" Bridget laughed, holding up a hand. "My kids are getting better by the second. Did I tell you? That Jack Naughton kid almost blocked a goal today."

Eric chuckled. "Was it because he was too busy staring at you?"

Diana screeched in laughter, while Bridget scoffed indignantly and threw an apple at Eric.

"Don't deny it!" he laughed, dodging the airborne fruit. "He loves you, he adores you, he dreams about you -"

"No, that would be you, Eric." Diana grinned cheekily.

Bridget gasped, leapt from her chair and clamped her hands over her friends' mouths, laughing. Diana squealed in surprise and Eric tried to fight his way out of her grip. When Bridget finally released them, all three coaches were convulsing with fits of laughter over poor Jack Naughton. Their amused laughs filled the cafeteria, and some players turned to stare. Bridget clutched her side, which was searing.

_I think we're finally friends,_ Bridget thought to herself, as the laughter wound down. She smiled to herself. After a few days of talking and kayaking, the awkward air between her and Eric had finally disappeared. The two hung out now, even when they didn't have to. He joined her for her daily runs and they often sat under the oak tree when their players were conditioning and talked soccer strategies. Finally, finally, at long last, the strange relationship between them had morphed into a normal friendship. Bridget even felt that she could trust herself around him again.

It was a good feeling.

---

Eric's heart raced as he realized what Joe was saying. "So you need someone to take over for Esmer and Kelsey?"

Joe nodded, distraught. "Yeah, but I don't know how I'm going to find two coaches willing to give up their weekend here to take eight kids on an overnight camping trip."

"We'll do it." The words were out before Eric could retract them.

Joe scrunched up his face. "You mean, you and Bridget?"

"Yeah."

"You understand that it's overnight, right? There won't be any problems with that?"

"No, sir." His mouth was running about ten times faster than his brain.

Joe looked wary. "Well…maybe I should check with Bridget, too."

Eric nodded. "Yeah, fine, whatever." He shouldered his big Adidas soccer bag and gave a quick salute to Joe before walking onto the fields for the last hour of pre-lunch practice.

As he walked toward his restless players, Eric grimaced to himself. _What did I just do?_ He had been getting along so well with Bridget and didn't want to destroy the comforting air between them. Now he had gone and done exactly what he had been trying to avoid doing. He mentally slapped himself.

He sighed and dropped his bag onto the grass, and his players jogged up to listen for further directions. Eric's head pounded uncomfortably.

"Okay, guys," he started, "The first camp-wide tournament is coming up soon. We definitely need to work on our defense and our agility. So today, I've decided on a couple of laps and then some of the usual drills. How's that?"

He was met with the chorus of usual groans.

"You know what?" Eric felt a sudden surge of energy and pent-up frustration. "What if I did all the exercises with you guys? Huh? Would that be better?"

"Yeah!!" the group yelled, patting Eric on the back before running to line up for laps around the field. Eric tightened his cleats, chuckling slightly. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the kids were actually growing on him. As he jogged to join the group, he saw Bridget jogging toward him, dressed in her team uniform. He tensed. _Had she heard the news?_

"Hey, dude," Bridget greeted him, smiling. She slowed her pace and stopped, breathing fast. "You look like you're about to run with your kids."

Eric exhaled subconsciously. _She hadn't heard. _"Yeah," he replied. "I felt like working out a bit today. Plus, it got them to stop complaining for once."

She grinned. "Mind if I join?"

"Of course not."

"Just the two I need!" came a booming voice. Eric groaned at Joe's arriving footsteps. _Not now, please, not now._

But "now" was exactly when Joe decided to intercept the two friends.

"Hey, Vreeland." He winked, as if to say, _See, your partner's not so bad, is he?_. Bridget looked down at her toes. Joe went on, "We've planned a rafting trip this weekend. It's an overnight down at the Schuylkill. We've got eight kids signed up, and Esmer and Kelsey pulled out at the last minute. Do you mind filling in? Eric said-"

"Does it matter if we mind?" Eric cut Joe off and shot him a warning glance before he said too much.

Joe, luckily, caught on. "No, actually."

"Well, then." Eric's heart beat quickly. _That was close._

After receiving some instructions and plans for the trip from Joe, Eric turned back to Bridget. "Sorry about that," he started.

But she had already left.

---

Eric was fully prepared to apologize to Bridget. Exactly what he was apologizing for, though, he was still sketchy about. When he had sat down opposite her at lunch that day, she had seemed distant and quiet, as if she didn't trust herself around him.

Eric walked through the woods adjacent to the camp, knowing Bridget would show up soon for her daily evening runs. He kicked up the dried leaves as he walked, feeling slightly stalker-ish.

Suddenly, he heard gravel crunching behind him, slightly to his right. Eric walked up the incline, preparing to emerge from the shadowy trees. But just as Bridget came into view, Eric saw another, smaller figure trailing behind her. Just a quick glance told him that it was the kid that was infatuated with Bridget, Jack Naughton.

"You know I can't be your girlfriend, Naughty," he heard Bridget say. "I'm your coach."

Eric felt an indescribable feeling rise in his chest. _That hadn't been enough for Bridget two years ago…_ he couldn't help thinking. From his hiding spot within the trees, Eric listened to Naughton continue talking to Bridget.

"But I think you're pretty amazing. No one would have to know."

"I can't, Naughty. I can't." Bridget kept repeating, looking pained. But only Eric knew her pain came from elsewhere, not from feeling sorry for Naughton.

---

A few hours later found Eric seated next to Bridget on the dock. The sun was setting, and the sky was painted with streaks of pink and orange. Bridget's tan legs swung like slow pendulums over the lake. She was quiet and pensive, and Eric let her be.

Suddenly, she blurted, "Can I apologize for something?"

Eric was surprised. He thought he was the one that had to apologize for getting them stuck with the awkward camping trip. "What do you have to apologize for?"

"Two summers ago."

Eric's breath caught in his throat, and a torrent of images raced through his head. Bridget sitting next to him on the beach, in all her leggy splendor, his own arm wrapping around her shoulders, the jeans she shared with her friends, lying abandoned in the sand nearby. Eric winced at the painful memories. He remained silent.

"That kid Jack Naughton wants to be my boyfriend," Bridget went on. "He's sweet, but he made me think of myself…and how I acted towards you. You must have thought I was so ridiculous." She fingered a smooth rock on the dock and skipped it across the tranquil lake. Eric watched the ripples disturb the surface of the lake. He sympathized with the water. He and Bridget had been doing so well, and then she had to go and bring the "two summers ago" up.

He could tell Bridget was regretting bringing the specter of "them" up again. She drew her knees to her chest, as she always did when she was nervous. She rocked back and forth, silent.

Eric contemplated whether or not he should admit what he had never said, that he had felt the exact same way toward her. He had loved her just as much as she loved him. Finally, he settled on saying, "You weren't ridiculous. It was a little more complicated than that." _There,_ he thought. _That was a good answer. Aloof, vague. _

"But it was all my fault. I know it was," Bridget pressed on.

Eric sighed inwardly. She wasn't letting him get away with this. He looked tormented for a long while, before finally giving in to the feelings that were struggling to pry themselves out of his mouth. "Do you really think it was all you?" His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "That I didn't want it, too?"

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it. Feel free to leave reviews/comments! Thanks so much, guys! (:


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Some quotes, names from Ann Brashares.

Thank you's: Princess Kazula, daniwani2369, noiram, deedee10, OrchidPrincess1010, PriscillaN, bookcrazygirl, JennyMae, and Jennifer88! Thanks so much the reviews! They mean a lot and are appreciated. (: Thanks, guys!

(A/N): I apologize in advance for how short this chapter is, but I had to cut my intended chapter in half. I will definitely make it up to you guys by updating quickly this time! Thanks for reading; on to the chapter! (:

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Bridget plopped her camping gear down onto the dirt and surveyed her surroundings. "This is the spot," she smiled to the group of boys trailing behind. Even though she was all smiles, Bridget was dreading the remainder of the trip. She regretted her conversation with Eric the night before; it had changed the mood between them. The ease that she had worked so hard to build up from scratch had disappeared. They were suddenly considerate and polite with each other. Bridget hated it. It was awkward.

As all the boys began setting up camp, Eric emerged from the trees and walked toward Bridget. "Is this the site?" he asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Yup," Bridget answered. It amazed her how even a one-syllable response could make her feel so awkward.

"Nice place here. Right next to the lake." Eric dropped the tent he shouldered.

"Yup." Bridget hated that word. She watched, silently, as Eric opened up his tent and began to set it up. Suddenly, it dawned on her.

"Um, you wouldn't happen to have my tent in that bag, would you?"

Eric looked confused. "No, Joe said this was it."

Bridget felt her heart stop. "You're kidding."

"What?"

"I don't have a tent."

Eric's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh. Well, you can use mine." He finished hammering in the last peg and stood up. "I'll sleep outside."

"I can't let you do that," Bridget protested. "I'll sleep outside. I love the stars."

Eric smiled faintly. "No, really, I insist. I was planning on doing so anyway."

Bridget watched him walk over to the lake and pull out the kayaks. She hated this awkward, polite air that hung between them, like clothes soaked with water. She wanted, so desperately, to go back to the way they were. _If I could just talk to him…_

"Bridget?"

Her heart soared. "Yeah?" she called back.

"Can you get the boys ready for kayaking? They're probably off in the woods somewhere."

Her heart fell. "Sure." She sat down on the log and pulled off her jeans, feeling stupid for thinking he was going to bring it up. She regretted bringing it up in the first place, that night at the dock. Bridget pulled her shirt over her bikini and sighed, blowing up wisps of blond hair. She self-consciously glanced around, hoping none of the boys was standing around, spying.

Just one was.

Bridget locked eyes with Eric, who was discreetly glancing in her direction. They both instantly cast their eyes down.

---

Eric, drenched from head to toe, thudded on Bridget's tent quietly. He shivered as he waited for her to open the flap. She rubbed her eyes and squinted at him through the opening. "Eric?" she croaked.

He smiled nervously. "Um…" he started.

Bridget's eyes widened in surprise, and she pulled him in. "Oh gosh, have you been sleeping out in the rain all this time?"

"No, I fell in the lake."

"What -?"

"Just kidding, it's raining. We're all going to be in tents tonight. I'm really sorry. Is it okay –?"

Bridget shook her head. "What are you talking about? Of course it's okay! You think I'd let you get sick out there?" She lay back down and turned to the side. "I'll let you get changed."

Eric set up his extra sleeping bag and changed into the dry clothes that he had stuffed into his backpack. He allowed the warmth of the down blanket to engulf him.

So there they were, both lying in a small orange tent, side by side, as the rain beat down outside. The silence was deafening.

"So," Bridget said, breaking the quiet. "Tell me about Kaya."

Eric stiffened underneath the heavy down blankets. He remembered, all too well, the day he had told Bridget about Kaya. He still regretted it. But he had been so afraid that she had moved on, and he wanted her to think he had, too.

_"Kaya," Eric had said. "My girlfriend."_

_Bridget's mouth had stiffened, he remembered. "Wow. Good for you."_

_"Do you?" Eric had asked. "Well, have a boyfriend, I mean. Not that I – well,"_

_"No," Bridget had replied, unflinchingly. "None."_

Eric remembered feeling like an idiot. _Why did I tell her?_ As he lay in their oddly comforting tent, he tried to think of how to answer Bridget's request.

Because there was something Eric had never told Bridget. He'd never told her that, when he had arrived at Columbia, he couldn't get her off of his mind. He'd missed her blond hair, confident nature, fun spirit. Shamefully, he'd thus sought comfort in groups of Bridget look-alikes. That was when he had met Kaya. Blond haired and outgoing, Kaya was Eric's carbon-copy replacement of Bridget. Whenever he'd hung out with Kaya, Eric imagined her blond mane to be Bridget's and imagined each word she spoke to be Bridget's.

And there he was now, sleeping not but two feet away from Bridget. The real one. Life was funny that way.

"I bet she's beautiful," Bridget said, above the pattering of the raindrops.

Eric felt like laughing. Instead, he breathed out, "Yeah. She is." _Because she looks just like you._

"Light hair or dark?"

_A less blond, less glossy, less breathtaking version of yours. _"Um, dark." Eric felt uncomfortable lying to Bridget, but rambled on, "She's actually half Mexican, too." _Why the hell did I say that?_

"That's cool. Does she go to Columbia?"

"She just graduated." Eric hated himself. With each word that came spilling out of his mouth, the more farfetched the lies became.

Bridget was silent, and Eric was afraid that he had gone too far. _She doesn't believe me,_ he thought to himself. _Any second now, she's going to point in my face and accuse me of lying. _

Eric turned onto his side to face and propped his head on his hand. "Hey," he said, voice unsure. "I want to hear about your friends."

Bridget rolled onto her back. "I don't know," she said softly. "I'm kind of tired."

And so they slept.

---

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave a comment/question in a review! Thanks for reading! (:


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Some quotes, characters from Ann Brashares.

Thank yous: noiram, Jenny mae, Jennifer88, sorrybut, and BridgetFan! Thanks for the reviews, guys! I really do appreciate them a lot. (:

---

It was pitch black when Bridget awoke. She shifted slightly in her sleeping bag, and her body brushed the cold patches of untouched blanket. What little sleep she had had that night was light; she couldn't sleep deeply knowing Eric was so close by. His mere presence filled the tent. Gingerly, she moved her foot so that her toes lightly grazed his. She hoped he wouldn't notice. He didn't.

Bridget withdrew her foot and mentally berated herself. She would have given anything for him to want her again. But she would have given more for him to trust her.

Her mind reeling from her inferiority complex after hearing about Kaya, Bridget sat up a little in her sleeping bag. She wanted to get out.

Trying not to wake Eric, she pulled her legs out of the bag, one by one, and stood up as high as the tent would allow her. After stuffing her feet into her tennis shoes, she opened the canvas flaps and stepped out. The rain was still pouring, heavy as ever, but the air was humid and warm. Bridget stretched comfortably and tilted her head up to stare at the black, starless sky. It filled her with a strange emptiness. She looked down again, at her drenched body. And, wearing only an oversize t-shirt and mesh shorts, Bridget began to run.

Thoughts ran through her head, pounding against her temples. _I have to accept it sooner or later,_ she told herself. _Eric's moved on. He has Kaya now…his sophisticated half-Mexican Columbia grad…_

The mud squished comfortably beneath Bridget's shoes, while her hair continuously dripped water onto her already soaked shirt. The infinite drops ran down her arms and trickled down her long legs. All the while, her shoes pounded through puddles and splashed her knees with mud.

Bridget had always liked running in the rain. No one could see her cry. Her salty tears mixed with the raindrops, and no one could ever tell the two apart.

---

It was dark when Eric awoke. He shifted slightly in his sleeping bag, and his body brushed the cold patches of untouched blanket. What little sleep he had had that night was light; he couldn't sleep deeply knowing Bridget was so close by. Her mere presence filled the tent. Gingerly, he moved his foot… It didn't come in contact with anything.

Eric sat up at once and surveyed the tiny tent. It was empty. Bridget's sleeping bag lay messily rumpled to his side, the shape of her body still indented in the center. Eric was filled with a strange, inexplicable emptiness, like he had been sleeping with a ghost the entire night.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. _Where is she? _He stood up slowly, as to not hit his head on the top of the tent, and opened the canvas flap.

It was probably about 5 in the morning; some of the sun's rays were already peeking over the horizon. The rain had stopped, and dawn was threatening to rise and push the black of the sky out of the way. The air, rich with that crisp, fresh post-rain scent, filled Eric's nose. He breathed deeply, scanning the area for any sign of Bridget.

Suddenly, his eyes landed on a large boulder abutting the lakeshore. On it, he could make out a dark, hunched over figure with a blanket of long hair flowing down its back.

_Bridget._

Eric, shoes crunching over wet leaves, jogged over to her. As he got closer and closer, Eric was startled to note that Bridget was soaked from head to toe, wearing only a t-shirt and shorts. _What the hell?_ he thought, slowing his pace.

Bridget heard the noise behind her and turned, jumping slightly in surprise. "Eric!" she cried out. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Eric replied, slightly angered by her carelessness. "What were you thinking? You could have caught pneumonia out here."

Bridget turned back around to face the lake. "I was running. I needed to think."

Eric fell silent. He watched the sun slowly rise, its reflection rippling in the lake. He didn't press her on the subject. He knew her well enough to know when she didn't want to talk. Instead, he exhaled and offered her his hand.

Bridget looked up in surprise. Wordlessly, she placed her hand in his. Eric was surprised to feel how cold it was.

"Do you want to go for a run?"

Bridget nodded.

And just like that, wordlessly, they began to run. Around the gleaming lake, they ran, Eric avoiding puddles while Bridget carelessly splashed through them. Their pumping legs became synchronized; their hearts beat as one. Subconsciously, they raced, each pushing their legs not to give out. They each feigned strength for the other, which, in turn, made both stronger. Eric remembered only one other time when he had felt so in tune with another person. It was two summers ago, on the sands of Baja.

Eric breathed hard, the clean forest air streaming through his nose. He turned his head to see how Bridget was faring alongside him. He noticed how wet her face was from the midnight rains. But as he faced forward again, he realized that they weren't raindrops.

They were tears.

Eric had always been able to tell the two apart.

---

Bridget waved goodbye to Diana's retreating car as it drove down the narrow dirt path that led out of the camp. As it disappeared around the corner, Bridget lowered her hand and smiled faintly. She was slightly depressed about the fact that almost everyone was visiting home for the weekend and leaving her to rot at camp. _Was he? _Bridget pushed the thought from her mind.

She walked slowly back toward the dining hall in silence. Her head slightly ached, and her legs made her feel like she was dragging a pair of lead pipes across a pool of quicksand. The camp felt strangely empty. As Bridget felt a rolling sensation behind her eyes, she decided to forgo stopping at the dining hall. Instead, she made a 360 and headed back toward her cabin. _I gotta get some sleep._

The tiny cabin was mercifully empty; the uncharacteristic quiet, comforting. Bridget peeled off her clothes and climbed into her bunk, noticing how much pain her joints were in. _That's it,_ Bridget thought woozily, in her sleep-induced state. _I must be getting a fever._ Lena's crisp voice popped into Bridget's heated head: "The first sign of a fever is the inflammation of the joints, Bee."

Bridget smiled through the heavy drowsiness that threatened to overcome her. _That Lena,_ she thought, before she fell into a dizzy, restless sleep.

---

Several cabins away, Eric Richman massaged his sore joints. He knew he was getting sick, but he wasn't worried. For some reason, he'd always had a strong immune system. All it usually took was a glass of water and a long nap, and he'd be good to go.

As he stood to get a tissue, he thought to himself, a bit irritated, _Maybe I shouldn't have gone running in the rain yesterday. _Eric remembered the tranquility of the wilderness and sunk back into his seat, entranced by the memory of Bridget running alongside him. _Her tears…Was I the one who caused them?_

Suddenly, Bridget's voice popped into his head, a memory dug out of the archives of his mind: "I always ran high fevers when I was little. I used to get up to a hundred and six – can you believe that?"

"Oh, crap," Eric muttered, before he slammed open the door and ran down the path that led to Bridget's cabin.

---

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Please feel free to leave me a review/comment/question! They are definitely appreciated! Thanks for reading. (:


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Characters/names/settings belong to Ann Brashares. Some dialogue as well.

Thank you's: Princess Kazula, xanimexfreakx, Sushruthi, Jenny Mae, Lilianna, noiram, Phoebe, An Angel on Ice, Swatter, daniwani2369, deedee10, spectacularspectacular, PriscillaN, Jennifer88, Laura369, WhiteCamellia, amantedellibro209, Maddie, and Elainethepain! Thank you guys SO much for all your reviews; they definitely go appreciated. You are all the best. Thanks again! (:

On to the chapter!

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Eric found Bridget in her bed, blankets pulled up to her chin, exposing only her beet-red face. He rushed over to her side and sat down. _She doesn't look well,_ he thought, worriedly.

Bridget's eyes immediately fluttered open. Eric saw her struggling to identify the alien person in her bed. After several disoriented seconds, Bridget croaked, "Eric?" Her teeth chattered as she spoke. Eric tenderly, almost instinctively, placed a hand on Bridget's flaming cheek. She shrank away from the coolness. "Bee," he said fearfully, "You're hot. Really hot."

Her thin lips curled upwards, but exhaustion prevented her from laughing aloud.

"Do you want to take something?" Eric asked, rubbing his hands on his thighs to warm them. "I'll go find the nurse. Do you take Tylenol, Motrin?"

"Anything."

Eric stood, staring down at Bridget with genuine worry, and said, "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

Bridget nodded, and Eric turned to push the screen door open. He spared her a glance before setting down the dirt path toward the brick-roofed infirmary. His head spun. _She looks so vulnerable. _Inexplicably, Eric wanted to wrap his arms around her and soak up her pain. He wanted to save her.

Eric reached the infirmary and clamped down on the metal doorknob. It opened. Closing the door behind him, Eric scanned the small room. Shelves of medicine lined the walls, and several empty cots lay, deserted, at the center of the floor. A thin layer of dust covered almost everything – it looked like the nurse hadn't cleaned in a year. Eric grabbed a plastic bag and roamed around, tossing random items into it. "Advil, aspirin, thermometer, cups…" he murmured as he went. He found his thoughts straying back to Bridget. _Would Bridget like orange juice? What about water instead? _Finally, when he was satisfied with his bag of choices, he returned to cabin 7. As he kicked up dirt with his soccer cleats, he realized Bridget had never told him which cabin was hers. He had just known.

Bridget, as she promised, was exactly where she had been left. She thanked Eric profusely and drank her pills down fervently, while he took her temperature. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the mercury level.

"What is it?" she asked, leaning forward a bit in her bed. The covers slipped a little, revealing an expanse of tan, bare skin. Eric swallowed slightly, although he'd seen her before, many times. He tore his gaze back to the thermometer.

"God, 104.7. Is that safe?"

Bridget sighed and lay back down, stuffing her hands underneath her left cheek. "I've been there before. It's okay."

"Bee, I'm calling your dad." Eric dug his cell phone out of his shorts. "What's his number?"

She propped her head up, almost amused at his attempt. "Eric, don't. He's…not there."

"What do you mean? It's midnight. Where would he be?"

Bridget's eyes were empty when she answered, "He's just…not there. In that way."

His heart sank as Bridget's words hit him, like a slap in the face. He felt a rush of sympathy toward her. _Not even a mom or dad to be there for her…_

Bridget shivered – a little at first, then stronger and stronger. As Eric watched her shake, he could tell it frustrated her that she couldn't keep her shivering under control. _She's used to being in control of herself, _he thought. _She's been controlling her emotions her entire life. She hates it when she's not in control._

As she continued to shiver, Eric lay down next to her; he couldn't stand to see her suffer any longer. He felt her stiffen as he pulled the sweaty covers over himself. Eric placed a comforting hand on Bridget's leg and whispered, "It's okay, Bee. Just sleep and try to feel better. I'm right here."

She fixed a bleary eye on his. "Thanks," she managed.

Eric began to move his hand ever-so-slightly up her thigh, then, feeling guilty, snatched it back. He knew Bridget was wearing nothing but her underwear underneath the covers, and his desire to move his hand back was almost unbearable. But he would sacrifice his yearnings for her trust. He exhaled audibly, heart pounding.

Bridget, through closed eyes, could sense his discomfort. She gently took his hand with her heated one and placed it on her chest. Eric felt her beating heart and wondered if he could help absorb all the sadness that rested inside it. He stroked her collarbone gently, then dared to move a bit lower.

And lower.

He drew it slowly down her stomach, taut from doing scissor kicks all afternoon. Her skin was smooth, but feverish with illness. Bridget exhaled hot air and pulled closer, burying her face in Eric's neck. He ran a hand through her long strands of hair. They both knew this was probably not the best path to take, but it felt so comforting and familiar.

And that night, as they fell asleep in each other's arms, both could no longer question whether they had ever been just friends.

---

Bridget knew her fever broke the moment her body went from freezing to sweltering hot. Sweat immediately sprung from every pore, soaking her awake. Bridget opened her eyes slowly and scanned the ceiling in confusion. _What day is it? Is there practice today?_

Then, in a rush, it came back to her. Eric's freezing fingers running uncurbed over her lithe body. Each touch like a pinprick of ice. They hadn't done anything else, though. It was friendly. Innocent. _Am I disappointed? Was I expecting anything more? _Bridget squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember every moment of that amazing memory.

---

Eric awoke, groggily, after being slightly kicked by Kaya. "Mm," he muttered, drawing her close to him. "Five more minutes." She resisted, and he grumbled, "God, Kaya –"

The name died on his lips as he opened his eyes. A tall, blond girl (not Kaya) was lying opposite of him, her hair splayed across her pillow and her blue eyes, so full of emotion, only centimeters from his own. He raked his eyes over her unclothed limbs, then stammered, "Oh my God, Bee, I'm sorry." He disentangled his arms and jumped out of the bed, stuffing his shoes on.

"Please don't say that." She was dying to explain herself.

The sadness in Bridget's voice almost made Eric stop in his tracks and listen to her.

Almost.

He regained himself quickly and slipped out the door, not looking back. "Kaya," he whispered, as he picked up speed and ran, as fast and as far away from last night as he could.

---

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Please feel free to leave a question/comment in a review! Thanks for reading! (:


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Characters/names belong to Ann Brashares.

Thank you's: WhiteCamellia, Myrah, crazy4kodama, noiram, "me", Kenzie, sorry but, Princess Kazula, BeeVree3, An angel on ice, tallsoccergirl, funky-monkey-93, Paigeyloveshim, and astronomylover! Thanks so much you guys – all your reviews seriously go appreciated. You are all awesome. Thanks so much!

---

Bridget kicked the soccer ball with fiery intensity. It soared easily past Naughty's outstretched arms and into the goal.

"Sorry, Naughty," she called out. "That one was too hard." Bridget had accidentally let her anger over Eric get the best of her coaching. He had made her want but gave her nothing. He had dangled his love in her face, then yanked it away, leaving only vague memories behind. Now he had disappeared, without a goodbye. It angered her. A lot.

Bridget kicked the soccer ball again, with a growl. Naughty missed.

"Come on, Naughty!" Bridget urged, stomping her cleats. "How am I going to figure out what to do with you during the championship game if you keep playing like this?"

Naughty grumbled and tossed her the ball, which she caught it neatly with a knee stall. She lined it up for another shot.

---

Eric stared, with blank eyes, at the neat, white-framed door. He couldn't believe he was back here again. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this.

He knocked once.

Almost immediately, the door opened. A girl in Nike running shorts and a Columbia sweater stood on the other side. Her blond hair was braided and hung down her back. She had amazing blue eyes that spoke volumes. She grinned.

---

"Come on, Naughty!" Bridget called out again, clapping to encourage him. "I know you have it in you to block this ball! Try again!"

As she lined up the ball, she thought to herself, _I can feel it – Naughty has something about him. He seems to know when to move and in which direction to do so. But when the ball's going straight at him, he can't fight the urge to move. So he misses every time! I wonder…_Suddenly, a proverbial light bulb went off in her head. At the last second before her sneaker connected with the ball, Bridget turned her ankle slightly to the left…

---

"Eric!" Kaya cried, throwing her arms around him. "What are you doing home already?"

He hugged her back, awkwardly. "Uh, we just – we need to talk."

Her eyes flashed, but her grin didn't waver. "Oh, okay! Well, come on in, my flat mates are out." She led him into her tidy sitting room, onto an immaculate white couch. As Kaya kept up an incessant stream of chatter and fixed him some lemonade, Eric took the time to inspect her. He cringed as he noticed all the glaring similarities between Kaya and Bridget. _How pathetic was I? _ _Using Kaya as a replacement for Bee? _The long legs, the style, even the way she moved. _All Bridget. _But her hair…her hair paled in comparison.

"Here you go!" Kaya placed a cup and a coaster onto the glass table. Her eyes shined, and Eric swallowed. _She's so beautiful. She'd be perfect for someone else. She doesn't deserve me._

"Thanks," he murmured, sipping some cold lemonade. It burned his throat.

"So what did you come all the way back here for?" she asked, placing a perfectly manicured hand on Eric's thigh. He found himself thinking of Bridget's untrimmed, messy nails. He swallowed.

"Kaya, I –" His voice sounded rough. He couldn't find the words. "I -"

"What is it, Eric?"

"I can't."

---

Time seemed to pass in slow motion as the ball propelled forward and toward Naughty. He jumped, his body taking off in the right direction. The tips of his fingers grazed the ball, yet he regained control and grabbed it.

He fell to the ground, staring wide-eyed, not believing it himself. He had blocked a shot. And not just anyone's shot. Bridget Vreeland's shot.

Bridget stood, frozen to her spot. Her right leg was still extended from the kick. "Wow," she breathed. "Nice save." She stayed calm, but she was screaming inside.

---

Eric watched a tear slide down Kaya's face, and he felt terrible for causing it. Then again, he felt relieved that everything was finally out in the open. He'd told her about Bridget. He didn't have to hide anymore.

"I'm sorry, Kaya."

She looked down, hiding her tears. She didn't want him to see her weak, another similarity she shared with Bridget. Kaya wiped her eyes discreetly with one finger and looked back up at Eric. "I'm sure you and Bridget will be very happy together," she sighed.

Eric stared hard. "Kaya," he said. "You're amazing. You deserve someone better than me."

They smiled weakly at each other for several silent seconds. Then, Kaya stood and wiped her sweaty palm on her shorts before extending it to Eric. "I guess I'll see you around school, then," she said.

Eric stood as well, feeling lighter than he'd felt in a long time. He disregarded Kaya's outstretched hand and instead drew her into a friendly hug. His heart didn't speed up the way it did when he hugged Bridget. He patted her on the back and murmured, "Take care, Kaya."

---

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it. Please feel free to leave a review – I definitely appreciate feedback. Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Characters/setting belong to Ann Brashares.

Thank you's: crazy4kodama, White Camellia, sorrybut, I heart hairspray, noiram, maximum-calories, CrazyHSMgirl, An angel on ice, Daine'sPonyCloud, TearsofBlack101, albusismyhomeboy, and deedee10! Thank you guys so much for all your positive feedback! I really appreciate all your kind words – they are very much appreciated. Thank you all again. You guys are awesome.

(A/N) Sorry, I know this chapter is kind of boring, but it's supposed to be the filler before the last one (coming up soon! Eek!) So pretty please bear with me... Thanks, guys! (:

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Eric walked down the steps of the pristine flat, heart racing. He tried thinking about what had happened, but it only made him afraid that he would change his mind. He tried thinking about Bridget, but his head only spun, making him feel lightheaded and woozy. He almost missed a step as he descended to the sidewalk. Eric's thoughts never went straight when he thought about Bridget. He'd long since learned that, but he still thought about her all the same.

---

Bridget had prepped her team well for the championship game. She had come up with what she liked to call her "Golden Strategy." She had figured out exactly what to do with all of her players (even Naughty) by pinpointing their strengths and planning around them. She made a great coach.

Game day found Bridget on the sidelines, in the middle of her pumped up players, revealing to them her "Golden Strategy".

"I'm not asking a lot of you," Bridget announced, game face on. "All you guys have to do is defend our goal – don't let them score. And don't worry about making goals or stealing past centerfield. Just concentrate on keeping the ball out of our goal. Keep the score at zero. Zero. Can you do it?"

The boys all hollered and cheered in response, then spilled onto the field. Bridget grinned and took a long gulp of water. Just as she tilted her head back, she spotted Eric on the other side, pep talking his own team.

"And let the game begin," Bridget muttered.

---

The championship game was a tiring, defensive grind. By the time the second half ended, just about everyone present was exhausted. Bridget's team was exhausted from relentless defending. Eric's team was exhausted from fighting their opponents' rigid barrier. Even the audience was exhausted (not to mention bloodthirsty) from the lack of goals. The two teams were both point-less – tied at zero.

And that was exactly what Bridget wanted.

She heard the tinny whistle from the ref, signaling the end of the game and the beginning of the shootout to determine the winner.

It was time for the second stage of her plan.

---

Meanwhile, Eric paced his sideline, hearing the same whistle. He couldn't understand why Bridget was holding back. _None of her players has even attempted a goal,_ he thought, confused. _She hasn't even played Russell yet – what's her deal?_

But just as he thought that, he saw Bridget tap Russell for the first time during the entire game. The tall Asian boy practically shot out of his seat, shaking with excitement. Suddenly, Eric understood. "Shit," he cursed. Bridget had obviously kept Russell out, saving him for the final kick – saving the best for last. Eric looked at his weary goalie, and then back at Russell, who was bouncing in his cleats. He couldn't help but be impressed with Bridget's strategy. "Touché," he muttered under his breath.

Not surprisingly, Russell's ball sailed easily past the goalie's outstretched hands. Bridget's team erupted in rowdy cheers, racing toward him and slapping high fives. Eric and his team waited anxiously for the celebration to die down.

Then it was their turn. Their kick would determine the whole game.

Eric played Jerome Lewis, surprising no one with his choice; the boy was quite possibly the best player in the entire camp, rivaling Eric himself in skill. Jerome walked out to the penalty line, nonplussed.

Bridget responded with a much more shocking choice.

"Jack Naughton?" Eric breathed, as the awkward boy blundered nervously into the goal. "You have got to be shitting me, Bee."

Eric heard Jerome shouting gleefully to his teammates, who were all exchanging smug looks. _Is she throwing the game?_ Eric thought. _She's going to lose if she puts Naughton in the goal!_ He considered calling a time out, but decided against it. _We have this game in the bag…_

Just as Eric hoped, Jerome let loose a magnificent shot. Everyone's eyes were on the ball, and no one noticed the goalie leap up at the same time. The two met simultaneously in the upper corner of the goal, in a clash of white on white. Eric watched, stunned, as Jack Naughton fell to the ground with the ball in his hands.

After seconds of shocked silence, Bridget's team and the audience erupted in cheers. Naughton's teammates rushed the field, picked him up, and placed him on their shoulders. Eric's team, on the other hand, looked positively livid – Jerome looked on the verge of tears as he stomped off the field.

Eric watched wordlessly as Bridget's team dumped a cooler of water over her, soaking her from head to toe. He swallowed as she laughed good-naturedly and pushed her boys around. Ignoring his thumping heart, Eric turned to console his heartbroken team before taking them over for team handshakes.

Bridget inched closer to Eric, as the line of players exchanging handshakes passed. _Three more, two…one…_Finally, they were face-to-face for the first time since that night. Eric noticed how drenched Bridget was, with her oversize jersey clinging to her body. Her hair hung heavily and messily down to her waist. Eric subconsciously wondered if she would get sick again. Ashamed, he pushed the thought from his mind.

"You win," he bowed to her, smirking, much like a businessman would, and not as a guy who loved her to oblivion. "Of course."

Bridget smiled thinly, but her eyes remained cold and distant. She shook hands with Eric quickly and moved on to the next player. "Good game," he heard her say.

Eric stood rooted in his spot for several seconds, confused. Why did she just totally blow him off like that? _Is she mad at me for leaving so quickly on Saturday? I have to explain myself – she'll forgive me for sure once she hears what I did. Would she?_

His thoughts wouldn't go straight, once again.

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Please feel free to leave a comment/review/question/anything! Thanks for reading! (:


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Characters/names belong to Ann Brashares.

Thank you's: WhiteCamellia, crazy4kodama, I heart hairspray, deedee10, CrazyHSMGirl, Daine'sPonyCloud, Laura369! You guys are absolutely great. I appreciate all your support! Thanks again!

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Eric planned to tell Bridget exactly what had happened. So that night found him pacing his crowded cabin, rehearsing his speech.

"When I was in New York, all I wanted to do was come back to you." He shook his head, and his hair flopped from side to side. "Nah, too desperate-sounding." Trying again, he muttered, "I knew that I could never love Kaya the way I do you." His eyebrows furrowed. "No, too stalker-like."

After several more minutes of pacing, Eric finally realized that his best bet would be to wing it –to simply hope that his thoughts would trickle out, catalyzed by the sight of her. He threw on a navy windbreaker over his soccer jersey and stuffed his feet into some sneakers, preparing to find Bridget. _She's in her cabin…_a pesky voice reminded him. _Remember when she came to get you in her cabin? And what happened after?_ Eric felt a thrill go through him then immediately felt guilty.

He reached for his door and swung it open.

"Bridget?" He widened his eyes in surprise. "Wow, I was just about to look for you."

Bridget said nothing, but only looked determined and resolute. Her face wasn't hidden behind her blanket of blond hair like it usually was. That night, her hair was bunched up in a dirty elastic. That night, she wore the Pants with a beat-up football jersey and bare feet. That night, her eyes were shining, not with tears, but with strength. And that night, Eric found her just as alluring.

"Would you mind taking a walk with me?" Even her voice was strong.

Eric nodded.

They stepped down the cabin stairs and meandered across the dark camp, making their way to the dock. The crickets chirped, creating a comforting ambiance in the still night. Bridget sat down and Eric sat next to her. They were quiet for a while, simply watching their reflections stretch with every ripple. Finally, Bridget spoke.

"I'm just going to talk for a while, and you listen. Okay?"

Eric nodded. He liked how forceful she was.

"I may talk about stuff you don't like." She kept eye contact, her blue eyes absorbing the luminescent moonlight.

He nodded, starting to become a little wary of what might follow.

Indeed, a torrent of words spilled out of Bridget's thin lips, as if they had been sitting restless and dormant inside for far too long. Eric listened to her talk about how much she liked the idea that they had become friends, how she respected that he had a girlfriend, and how she truly appreciated how he had taken care of her when she was sick. Those parts were fine. But then came the clincher.

"I felt so close to you and then you were gone. You made me believe in you and then you let me down. Is that how it is with you? Do you let people get close just so you can disappoint them?" Bridget said, wiping her eyes quickly.

Eric's heart sank to the soles of his shoes. _Is that what she thinks of me?_ He looked up into her wet eyes. "Bee, no. That is _not_ how it is with me."

"Then how is it?"

Eric felt the words pushing themselves out of his mouth, without his mind telling them to do so. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her he loved her. And he really did.

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Bridget's heart raced as she dug into the depths of her duffel bag. Three nights ago, there on the dock, Eric had professed his love to her. Bridget squeezed her eyes shut and grinned. How good Eric's words had made her feel. She wondered if he had rehearsed them beforehand.

"Holding you, I felt something stronger than I ever felt for anybody else, and stronger than I even thought it was possible to feel," he had said, looking her straight in the eyes. Indeed, Bridget remembered feeling the strength of his longing; it had hung thickly in the night air. And then she had gone back to her cabin and lay breathlessly on her bed, wondering if the moment had been too good to be true. She had pinched herself, just in case she had dreamed the entire night. She hadn't.

And several minutes ago, while lying on the same bed, Bridget had been awakened to Eric's face next to hers. He wanted her to take a walk with him.

Bridget squealed inwardly and bit her lip so that Eric, who was standing at the door, wouldn't hear her. She continued her frantic search for the white halter dress that Carmen had told her she looked stunning in. When she finally found it, she grinned and eagerly pulled off her T-shirt and boxer shorts. Out of the corner of her eye, Bridget saw Eric swallow and turn away awkwardly, but she didn't mind. There was nothing he hadn't seen before.

Bridget sighed contentedly when the dress was finally on. For the final touch, she yanked the elastic out of her hair and let the strands fall down her bare back. When she passed Eric in the doorway, he groaned, "God, Bee." It set her nerves singing.

That night, they sat at the dock again.

Eric told her that they were meant to be together; that they weren't shoved into the same camp again this summer out of pure coincidence. _We were meant to be. _Bridget repeated Eric's words in her head. She liked how the phrase sounded. She liked the feeling that, for once, her life had taken on a movie ending. Bridget was happier than she had been in ages. Her heart was so full she thought it might burst.

And beneath the moon, with their legs swinging slowly over a quiet lake, they shared a sweet, friendly kiss and embraced. They didn't have the burning passion or hasty fervor that they had two years ago. They didn't skip over the fundamentals of a relationship directly to the physical satisfaction as they had done in Baja. They weren't concentrating on the home run, but on jogging slowly over all the bases and appreciating the wind in their hair as they did so. All they had now was their limitless, mutual love.

And that was all they really needed.

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Wow, I can't believe I finished this fic! It was incredibly fun to write and I'm so sad I can't come home and write any more! Hopefully you guys had fun reading it as well. Please keep an eye out for upcoming stories – I have a ton of ideas! I want to thank everyone who read this, and especially everyone who reviewed. Some of you (you know who you are!) have stuck with this fic since the early chapters, and I'm so grateful for all your support. Thanks, everyone! (:


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